The Long:

I founded Bad Advice Club in the mid-2000s as a vehicle for confronting what I perceived as a community overly comfortable with getting along by going along. Part performance art and part protective shield for forms of self-reflection that felt too expansive to inhabit openly, the project also functioned as the artistic equivalent of a ski mask. It provided the emotional distance and plausible deniability I needed to speak honestly, allowing me to locate and develop my own voice at a moment when direct exposure felt untenable. Over time, as I grew more comfortable with that voice, the project evolved—becoming less an alias and more an integral aspect of my broader practice.

My work exists at the intersection of whimsy, satire, and self-reflection, using deadpan and disruption to explore questions of power, belonging, and how we move through the world together as both witnesses and players. Influenced by the irreverence of Dadaism, the tangibility of craft, and the youth subcultures of the 1960s and 1970s, my practice unfolds as an evolving, unfinished process—an ongoing search for balance between the desire to connect and the necessity of holding one’s ground by drawing lines in the sand. Often, the work begins without a fixed end in mind, building itself incrementally upon each preceding step. Across mediums, the connective thread is an emphasis on becoming rather than arrival—work that is constructed through process rather than simply manifested.

Drawing from punk rock, my experience as a person of color in America, and an Indigenous background shaped by the realities of being othered, I approach my work with a worldview that understands interconnectedness not as an aspiration but as a fundamental truth of the human experience. This perspective carries a strong sense of collective responsibility to community—one that often feels like an act of defiance within capitalist America, where the emphasis rests on the celebration of the individual over the collective. Much of my work functions, for me, as a kind of sigil—charged and intentional, shaped through the effort to persist within a sometimes antagonistic society and guided by the belief that there is a place for me and my kind somewhere within it. The work operates as both personal reckoning and communal duty. My own imperfections—my inability, at times, to see beyond missteps or to say and do the right thing in the moment—inform a practice that treats personal shortcomings as studies for the wider world and as a process of learning toward greater forgiveness, a discipline I have found to be among the most difficult. I reject the notion of art as a passive ornament of the elite and instead invite engagement, encouraging people to project their own experiences into the work and arrive at interpretations that feel intimate, responsive, and distinctly their own.

My work moves fluidly across disciplines, including sculpture, traditional canvas work, performance art, photography, fashion, and wordplay, often merging multiple forms into a single, hybrid practice. Collaboration with other artists is a vital part of my work and one that never feels exhausted. I value every opportunity to work alongside others; at its best, collaboration reinforces my belief that creative partnerships are greater than the sum of their parts. I work with artists, organizations, and communities to create projects that challenge dominant narratives while remaining accessible, playful, and grounded in real human experience.